#tarticawhat

[itspileofgoodthings]

⭐

Drops of Jupiter — Train

[dresupi]

burst your bubble

Rated: T

For: @tarticawhat

Pairing: Molly Hooper/Sherlock Holmes \ Characters:  Mike Stamford, Philip Anderson, Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson Tags: Alternate Universe - Retail; Drug Store; Cashier Molly Hooper; Sherlock Holmes has Feelings; Philip Anderson being a Dick; Mutual Pining; Bad Flirting; Shampoo; Deserves its own tag because it's practically a character, One Shot

ao3

Summary:

He always comes through her queue. And he always makes the most random purchases. In her heart of hearts, she hopes for a reason.

But when has anyone described Sherlock Holmes as reasonable?

Retail AU

Notes:

Prompt was: "I'm a cashier and you're buying some really random products, I'm trying not to judge, but…wtf dude?"

"Your bloke is here again," Mike called from the chemist's counter in the back of the store.

Molly felt her face flush scarlet as her fingers closed around the collar of her blouse. Had she put her hand there? She couldn't remember doing it, but here it was, all the same. If she had pearls, she'd be clutching them.

Sherlock Holmes wasn't her bloke. Not that she would throw him out of bed… but that was beside the point.

The point was, he wasn't hers.

Even though he always seemed to come through her queue. And with the oddest, most mind-boggling purchases, too.

On one particular occasion, he'd walked out of Bart's Pharmacy with every red lipstick they carried. "For a case," he'd said in way of explanation. What red lipstick could tell him about a crime wasn't clear, but Molly didn't make a habit of arguing with the self-proclaimed consulting detective.

"I wonder if he's here to buy all the lippy again…" Philip Anderson muttered, but not so quietly he couldn't be heard. He shifted his weight and peered out the front windows at the man in the Belstaff who was currently walking toward the store.

"That was only a few months back," Molly said absently. "I doubt he could have used them all up by now."

"If he found a favorite shade, he might have done," was Anderson's snide retort.

Rolling her eyes, she smoothed down the front of her smock and checked her image in the security feed. She'd worn comfortable clothing, as per usual, since she was on her feet for most of the day, but now she'd wished she'd put forth a bit more effort.

The doors slid open and the man himself walked into the shop. This time, he wasn't alone. John Watson, that doctor who lived with him, was just now exiting the car and hurrying to keep up.

Molly's heart sank.

It wasn't that she didn't like Dr. Watson, she simply preferred it when Sherlock came alone.

Sherlock's eyes scanned the store, finding what he was looking for in an instant, and taking off in the direction of the hair care products.

John entered a few moments later, eyes searching for and finding Sherlock. Once he had, he turned to nod in Molly's direction. "Ms. Hooper…"

"Dr. Watson," she returned, watching as John made his way back to where his flatmate was currently perusing the bottles of hair wash. He'd selected a few different brands, and proceeded to dump all of these into John's arms.

"I'll get a trolley, then?" John asked, looking very put upon when he got no response from Sherlock.

"It's a specific brand, John. We find the brand, we find the killer."

John huffed out some sort of rude reply and walked up to the front of the store where the trolleys were kept. He was about to walk toward one when Anderson stopped him, shaking his head. "Afraid you can't go past the queues with products you haven't purchased, sir."

John shot Anderson a look of pure disbelief. "You think I'm nicking twelve bottles of shampoo? What, do you think I'm mad?"

Anderson glanced back at Sherlock before returning his gaze to John. He shrugged. "Can't let you through, Dr. Watson."

"Oh for goodness' sake…" Molly groaned, walking out from behind her register to procure a trolley for the poor doctor. "Anderson, you're the worst sort of human."

"Oy!" her coworker protested as she pushed the trolley towards John, who shot her a grateful look as he dumped the contents of his arms into it, and then pushed it back towards the hair care aisle where Sherlock already had more bottles at the ready.

"Just because you fancy that looney doesn't mean we all do, Hooper…" Anderson hissed. Again, not so under-his-breath that everyone in the bloody shop couldn't hear him.

"I don't fancy him," Molly mumbled, blushing like mad as she made her way back round to her cash register. "I don't."

It took them a few minutes longer, but soon Holmes and Watson had chosen a bottle  in every brand and fragrance. There were dozens of bottles that they began unloading at Molly's queue, much to the amusement of the troll-like Anderson.

She rang them all up; some bottles didn't even cost an entire pound and then there were others that cost nearly forty each.

Sherlock stood there, looking at Molly in that unnerving way he had. She felt her shoulders tense up, sensing an impending deduction.

Those deductions were the reason Anderson hated Sherlock Holmes, and while Molly could understand Philip's negative reaction--Sherlock's deductions were often brutally honest to the point of cruel--she also held them in high regard.

Not many people spoke their minds nowadays.

Sherlock was an old soul, she could feel it.

Alright, he was also quite rude. And unpleasant on his best days. And manipulative. But he was an old soul as well. And very fit, if his tailored clothing was any indication.

Not that she'd noticed.

"Anderson, do cease with your glowering and go earn your meager paycheque… There's a clean-up needed on aisle seven," Sherlock said, his voice low but terse. "Honestly, how you people can't smell the spilt perfume is beyond me. It's giving me a headache… John… could you go fetch me something for my head?"

"I think you need a prescription for the sort of thing that'd fix your head," was John's retort.

"Your sarcasm is tiresome. For my headache, please."

John's eyes rolled skyward as he trudged back towards where the painkillers were kept. "Any specific requests?"

"You're the doctor," Sherlock replied impatiently, his eyes never leaving Molly as she rang out the rest of their purchases. "Ms. Hooper. You look lovely this--"

"Save it Sherlock, what do you want?" she asked, meeting his gaze and hoping like hell she didn't look as nervous as she felt.

His lips curled into a smile, she believed a genuine one. "I do believe your personality is coming along nicely, Molly. What time are you finished with your… proletariat nightmare?"

"My shift's over in thirty," she replied.

"Smashing," he said with a grin. "Fancy a visit to mine?"

"That depends… what for?" she asked as she started placing the shampoo bottles into bags, ringing up each at a five pence as she did.

"Oh, wait, don't do that. I have my own in the car… John will get them," Sherlock said, batting her hand away. His fingers brushed hers and she couldn't help but shiver a little at the contact.

She took off the bag charges and drummed her short fingernails on the counter as they waited for John to meander back up to the front, dropping a bottle of paracetamol on the counter and jamming his hands in his pockets.

"Could you go fetch the bags from the boot?" Sherlock asked.

"You go get them, "John said. "I won't flirt with your Molly while you're gone, I swear it."

Molly's eyebrows shot up off her forehead as Sherlock glared daggers at the good doctor.

But then, he was gone in a flourish of Belstaff, stalking out to the parking lot for his bags.

John smirked in Molly's direction. "Don't look so surprised, Ms. Hooper. There are approximately two Superdrugs and a Tesco within walking distance of our flat and he always chooses to come here. Except on Tuesday. Because you're-"

"Off on Tuesday…" Molly finished for him.

John winked. "Yea, you know."

"I most certainly didn't know."

"Now you know," he amended, pulling out his wallet. "I'm sure I'm supposed to foot the bill for all this. Most expensive obsession he's ever had, you."

Molly's face flushed all shades of red when Sherlock bustled back through the doors, reusable shopping bags in tow.

"I'll see you at yours, Sherlock?" she asked hopefully, seeing something akin to the same in his eyes when he met hers.

The corners of his mouth twitched upward slightly before he replied. "Yes. I'm at 221B. Baker Street. Ms. Hudson will let you in"

"She's not a housekeeper," John reminded him as Molly handed him the receipt.

"She'll let you in," Sherlock repeated.

[medeasfleece]

@cleverdeception @tarticawhat wh... why

korean food is just like this old rhyme:

There was a little girl with a little curl right in the middle of her forehead / When she was good she was very very good / But when she was bad she was HORRID.

[thelonelybrilliance]

⭐

Cool mint green–refreshing and fun and easygoing. :)

[animepopheart]

Honeybee and typewriter

Honeybee: Name something positive you have done for yourself or someone else in the last two weeks.

Well, today I met up with a young man I used to disciple that’s really struggling these days. I’ve been trying to stay in touch and really be there for him, even though I’m sometimes just drained and not able to—and today was a hard day because all the stress just destroyed me. But I’m glad I spent time with him, and I know that, even though it’s not for me, it ends up being for my good as well.

Typewriter: If you had to come up with ten words to describe your life story so far, what would they be?

SavedThankfulHopeSelf-centeredUncontrollableIncompleteGrowingRedoSafeLoved

[byjoveimbeinghumble]

Have you started watching the Netflix ASOUE?

I have, and I recently finished! 

I’m going to be honest - I was disappointed. Patrick Warburton is top notch, and Joan Cusack is phenomenal, but other than that, everyone else in the cast is underwhelming. 

I’m baffled by the directing and acting decisions. Scenes feel a little like...a board game? That’s not the right thing, but bear with me. People deliver their lines, then they stop, and they wait for the next person to finish their lines. Physically, very little happens in the scenes; people are mostly stationary. 

I found he writing also surprisingly bad. Maybe it’s because Snicket is hard to adapt? I was bugged by their dialogue choices for Sunny. In the books, I remember that she usually said helpful comments. In this show, she gives these flat one-liners. I really dislike a lot of Olaf’s lines, like “Seize the children!” instead of “Seize the day!”. To me, it felt like the show was trying to be funny, which is really weird and it didn’t work. 

Where’s my menace and dread? Where’s my despair, balanced by grit and hope? Why on earth is the Hook-Handed Man played as goofy? Why are the henchpeople kind of bland and annoying rather than capable and scary?

One of my friends called the show nice but forgettable, and I think that about sums it up.

(One more positive comment - I loved the arc with the parents. That was delightful.)

[itspileofgoodthings]

@tarticawhat woah first of all best joke of the day thank you to @motleysaint

Second of all! Thanks for the rec!! I suspect I also might have a love/hate relationship with him! I loved far from the madding crowd but this was after watching the movie and it’s hard not to like a book about a patient shepherd whom you’re imagining in your head as Matthias Schoenaerts- I am only human.

I liked the book for other reasons too but I wasn’t wildly in love with his world or even style and so I never tried any more. He did have these incredibly onpoint, somewhat side note observations about the human condition that I loved SO MUCH. Like- he has this section on why doing new things is so hard that has stayed with me so powerfully! He says that it’s so hard to break out of your comfort zone because not only do you have to overcome your own personal inertia but an inertia that is IN the circumstances themselves. sometimes you start on a new endeavor and it feels like the world is against you or circumstances are conspiring against you, even though they really aren’t, and you have to stay strong and persist before you find your flow and I have just thought about that so much it’s ridiculous.

And ALSO when Frank and Bathsheba first meet he tells her that she is the most beautiful woman he has EVER seen but she sees that he is a rake and dismisses it as nonsense but then later when she goes home and she’s safely away from his presence she starts thinking about it and is like “am I though?” And it is the funniest thing in the world to me because that’s such a real reaction!!!! If someone told me that, there’s a part of me, a part of us, that would believe them! It’s so delightfully human.

This is not what you asked i’m sorry 😂

[itspileofgoodthings]

Hi! ^^

I’m going with Anne Elliot. Anne has such quiet grace and core strength and she uses both to be so good to people and that feels like you!! But also Anne holds so much in her heart and keeps it there until she has someone to tell whom she trusts and I could be wrong but my instinct says that’s right for you.